Nothing But Net
by Fire'CxO'Ice
Summary: Becca discovers how hard it is to keep a secret from the Merrick brothers. Gabriel makes a rather alarming discovery of his own. Chris has some explaining to do. Michael gets his daily dose of parental authority out. And Nick and Quinn? Bah. They're too busy doing their own thing to get involved. Rated T for minor swearing and slightly suggestive themes.


_A/N: Set after Spark, so if you haven't read it yet... GO READ IT RIGHT NOW.  
__Also, the pairings are all canon. Enjoy :)_

Nothing But Net  


Smack. Smack. Pause.

Swish.

Gabriel Merrick jogged up his driveway to retrieve the ball before dribbling it back to the three-point line, winding up for another shot. It was getting late, the porch light shooting feeble streams of illumination that didn't quite reach the driveway, the sun having already finished its descent. But he didn't mind the darkness; he could make these shots with his eyes closed.

Swish.

Normally he would be out here with one of his brothers, shooting the shit and goofing off, but only Michael was at the house and (as usual) he was glued to his laptop. Nick was out with Quinn, and his younger brother Chris was...somewhere. Probably with his girlfriend, too. Gabriel didn't mind that either, to be honest. He'd been with Layne for most of the afternoon, working on their most recent math assignment until she'd had to leave. Her father was starting to tolerate him - he'd saved her life twice, after all - but tolerating and trusting were two very different things. She'd stayed until 6, when the gradually darkening sky had caught her attention and she'd put a stop to their studying. He'd driven her home and then, when he realized Nick might be awhile, ordered a pizza and headed out to shoot some hoops while he waited for it. No way was he gonna risk Mike's cooking two nights in a row.

The driveway was momentarily illuminated by a pair of headlights as a car drove up, pulling over to the curb as Gabriel went for a layup. He heard the engine cut and a car door open, then shoes crunching on gravel as the driver made their way up the driveway.

"Nice shot." A familiar female voice. He held the ball loosely in both hands, turning to regard his visitor. Becca. Chris' girlfriend. So maybe he wasn't with her after all.

"You know me," he replied, shooting her a wolfish grin, "I always score." She rolled her eyes, jiggling her keys in her hands, but there was an answering smile on her lips. Gabriel wasn't exactly sure how it had happened, but somewhere along the way the two of them had developed a relationship that was very sibling-esque. He'd never had a "girl-friend" before; he was more of a love em and leave em kinda guy, at least before he'd met Layne. But Becca was different. He wasn't interested in her sexually (no offense! And she was dating his brother, after all) but he liked having her around. In a lot of ways, she was like the sister he'd never had.

Not that he would ever tell her (or anyone) that.

"I thought you were stuck in the land of the walking for the time being." He glanced curiously at the car she'd driven, a white Jetta he'd never seen her with before. "You win the lotto or something?"

She snorted, stuffing the keys into the pocket of her dark blue sweater, keeping her hands tucked away. It was getting colder; a chill hung in the air, their breath coming out in short puffs of mist. She was probably cold with just that flimsy thing on.

"Not recently. My mom and...Bill..." her shoulders tensed up at his name, a dark frown scrunching up her face, making him think that maybe the cold wasn't the only thing that had her hands balled up in her sweater, "worked something out. I wasn't going to take it," she insisted, her eyes flashing in the darkness, defiant as ever, "but my mom really wanted to help me out, and she said we could pay him back, so..." the silence hung between them for a moment. Gabriel wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. The guy was a total ass who'd tried to kill them all (except Becca - that had been an "accident") and he would rather fight it out than have some shaky alliance with the guy. But he was a Guide with a lifetime of training, which made him a whole lot stronger than them, and he was also Becca's father.

Which made killing him a bit of a slippery slope.

"Beats walking everywhere," Gabriel shrugged, turning towards the garage. "Plus, now I won't have to pick your sorry ass up every day." He tossed the basketball inside before pulling the garage door shut, glancing at her over his shoulder. He'd expected some sort of barb, but apparently his comment had gone straight over her head. She was still standing there, tense and looking like she wanted to hit something.

He could relate.

"Chris isn't here, but you can come in and wait if you want," he called over his shoulder, easily jumping the porch steps to the front door. He held it open, gesturing her inside. She let out a pent up sigh before following him into the house.

"Yeah, I talked to him earlier today." She shivered, rubbing her arms absently as they headed into the kitchen. "He said he'd be home around 7, so..."

Michael was seated at the table, his laptop in front of him, a coffee cup in one hand. He barely glanced away from the screen, nodding his head in greeting when they walked in. Becca sat beside him, peering at the screen.

"How's everything going? You need me to help out with any jobs?"

Gabriel snorted, moving to grab himself a cup. He gestured to it, raising a brow in a silent question, but she shook her head. Pouring one for himself, he went to the fridge for the milk.

"We're getting by." Michael replied, sounding as cold and aloof as always. But he glanced away from the screen for a moment, giving her an almost-smile. "Thanks."

She fiddled with her sleeves for a bit, not quite sure what to say. Michael wasn't exactly Rico Suave, either, so an awkward silence hung in the air until Gabriel dropped himself into the chair across from Becca, dropping his mug and an open bag of cookies on the table with an enthusiastic smack.

"So!" He started loudly, making her jump and Mike roll his eyes in irritation, his hand never hesitating as it scrolled over the mousepad of his computer. He was used to his younger brother's antics. "What's the deal with wittle Chwissy? He forget his history notes again or what?" He snagged a few cookies from the bag, popping one into his mouth before pushing the bag over to the center of the table.

"No, nothing like that." Becca hedged, clearly uncomfortable. She was staring at the table, sucking her lower lip between her teeth.

Oh boy, major red flag alert. Sure, Gabriel had only known her for a short while, but he'd picked up on a few of her nervous habits along the way. Like how when she was trying to keep a secret, she always chewed on her lip and refused to make eye contact with anyone.

Mike's fingers stilled over the pad, his brown eyes turning towards her, full of scrutiny. Apparently he was no stranger to her antics either. "What exactly is it like?"

Yup. Gabriel recognized that tone; it was usually followed by a lot of yelling. She was going down. He stuffed another cookie into his mouth.

Becca fidgeted in her seat, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, her cheeks starting to turn a rosy shade of red. "He said he was going to tell you," she managed weakly, looking anxious. "I don't think it's my place-"

"-Hah! Now that's a good one." Gabriel chortled around a mouthful of chocolate chips, pointing one finger at her accusingly, his other hand wrapped around his coffee cup. "You've never had a problem with butting into our business before. We probably wouldn't even be having this conversation if that was even remotely true." He took a slow sip, washing down the rest of the cookie, staring at her smugly from over the rim of his mug. Michael had closed the lid of his laptop; now she had his full attention. He placed one hand on the table and leaned forward until he was looming over her, a dark frown on his face.

"Tell us what." He didn't even phrase it like a question; she let out a soft squeak, her cheeks turning crimson. Clearing her throat, she shifted in her seat, trying to lean away from him as much as possible, clearly uncomfortable with this whole arrangement.

"Look, guys, it's not what you think-"

"-Just spit it out already!"

"W-well, you see, he, um," she stammered, eyes wide, "he-"

A loud chiming interrupted her, followed by an insistent vibration coming from her sweater. Looking sheepish, she dug around in her pocket for a moment, pulling out her keys and her ringing phone; glancing at the caller, a look of relief filled her features. She put it to her ear,

"Thank God! Listen, I know you asked me not to tell them, but-" she paused for a minute; Gabriel could hear a soft buzzing coming from the other line. "Oh, okay. See you soon. Uh huh." A small smile was playing across her lips as she spoke, the current situation clearly forgotten. Chris, presumably, said a few more words and then she hung up, still smiling that goofy smile of hers.

"Wow." Gabriel rose a brow at her from across the table, his fingers fiddling with his now-empty mug. "You've really got it bad for our brother, huh?" Grabbing his third cookie, he leaned back in his chair until he was balanced on the back two legs. "He's not much of a looker, in my opinion, but to each his own, I guess."

She went crimson from the top of her forehead down to her chin. "Layne said you had a sweet side," she shot back, the spark of challenge in her eyes, "but I'm not so sure."

Wait.

Wait.

What?

He nearly choked on his stupid cookie.

"You...talked to Layne?" He muttered, rocking his chair back onto four legs. Hard. He hadn't seen that coming at all. He didn't know Layne and Becca talked to each other...Hell, he didn't even know they knew each other. WTF. When had this even happened?

She rolled her eyes, the flush slowly draining from her face. "Yeah. We do go to the same school, you know."

This didn't necessarily have to be a bad thing. He and Becca were pretty good friends now. She had probably just put in a good word for him, right?

...Right?

"What did you talk about?" He asked cautiously, trying to imagine a scenario with the two girls gossiping, and failing miserably. Neither one of them seemed the type. "How awesome I am, right?"

"Among other things." She muttered, reaching across the table for a cookie.

The screen door slammed, bringing three pairs of eyes toward the front entrance. Chris made his way into the kitchen, a small grin lighting up his face, his schoolbag slung over one shoulder. He hesitated when he noticed everyone staring at him, the smile vanishing as he gauged their expressions: Michael, winding up for an explosive lecture; Becca, desperately excited to be out of the hot seat; Gabriel, staring off into space, a small frown creasing his brow. Now that was something he didn't see often. Gabriel looked like he was thinking.

Michael jabbed one finger against the table fiercely. "Sit."

Chris sat.

"Talk."

Chris talked.

"What the hell is going on?" He managed, letting his bag hit the floor with a thud, his eyes flashing nervously to Michael's stoney face and away. "Where's Nick?"

Mike wasn't having any of that. "Out. Not the point. Where were you?"

Chris relaxed visibly, a small sigh leaving his lips. "Oh, that's what's got you in such a pissy mood. What's wrong with him?" He nodded his head in Gabriel's direction; He hadn't spoken since Chris had gotten home, and now he was tapping his chin thoughtfully, muttering to himself.

"Girl trouble." Becca stage-whispered, grinning slyly when he shot her a glare.

"You're the devil."

Michael slammed his fist against the table, making Becca jump. The other two just rolled their eyes. "Enough! I asked you a question."

"Alright, alright," Chris sighed, moving to unzip his bag. "I was at school, talking to my English professor. And then I had to walk home, which, you know, takes a little while." He pulled what looked like a small stack of papers out, sliding them across the table to his oldest brother. "He had a few questions about my Macbeth essay."

Mike didn't say anything for a minute, picking the essay up to skim over. But his eyes froze on the front cover. He glanced back over at Chris, who was smiling again, before turning the first page. His mouth twitched at the corners, as if he was suppressing a smile himself. Beside him, Becca reached over to grab Chris' hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Gabriel missed this entire exchange, all of his attention focussing on the texting conversation he was having with Layne.

**You know Becca? My bro's gf?**

Her response took an agonizing two minutes; he'd watched the tiny clock on his phone.

**Yeah. She's really nice :) Why?**

He paused for a moment, not sure how to play this. He didn't want to sound like a controlling freak, but he wanted some answers.

**She's here now. Just surprised. I didn't know you guys were friends.**

Her next message was almost immediate.

**She knows about you guys, too. It's nice to have someone to talk about that stuff with, you know?**

Hm. Well. That sort of actually made sense. Maybe he was worried for nothing.

**Oh. Okay, cool. But you can talk to me about it too, you know.**

**Of course! But I can't talk to you about everything ;)**

Winky face. A small smile crept across his own face as he reread her words. Interesting. Maybe they were just swapping boyfriend stories. In that case, he didn't have anything to worry about.

**Fair enough. Just try not to make Chris look too bad, k? ;)**

He could picture her, sitting at her kitchen, surrounded by textbooks and completed homework, blushing in that adorable way that she did. His smile broadened. Yeah, he didn't have anything to worry about.

He glanced up to see that the entire dynamic of the room had changed; Becca and Chris were sharing some secret smile while Mike read some papers Gabriel hadn't noticed before. He was about to ask what was up when Michael put them down, looking across the table at his brother with an expression that bordered on...proud. He could count on one hand - and still have fingers to spare - the number of times he'd ever seen Mike look like that.

"He wants to enter it in an essay contest next month," Chris was saying, sounding a little nervous. "What...What did you think?"

"I think he should." His brother said, gently pushing the essay back across the table. "And I think...I know Mom and Dad would be proud."

For a moment, no one said anything. Gabriel shoved the bag of cookies at his younger brother with a grin.

"Congrats. I missed most of that, but I guess the gist is that you're not a total moron after all, huh?" Chris rolled his eyes, reaching over the table to give him a shove. But he was smiling too.

"What's wrong?" Michael's confused tone caught their attention, and they both glanced over to see that he was staring at Becca, looking a little out of his element (har, har). She was hastily rubbing at her eyes, but the damage had already been done.

"Are you...crying?" Chris muttered, obviously just as confused as his brother.

"No!" She shouted, though a small sniffle gave her away. "It's just...You guys are...And what he said..." She was still scrubbing angrily at her face, trying to get rid of the evidence, but Chris grabbed her hands, gently pulling them back into her lap.

"You are adorable." He said, trying his best not to laugh. She smacked him in the shoulder anyway, telling him to just shut up and get her a box of kleenex. As he headed to the bathroom, there was a knock at the door. Michael and Gabriel looked at each other and then at the crying girl in front of them.

"I think I should-"

"I got this one-"

They both made a mad dash for the door, leaving Becca to her own devices for the moment. Mike had a bit of a head start, and he'd been closer to begin with, but Gabriel wasn't on the soccer team for nothing. He passed him in the hallway easily enough, screeching to a halt before he crashed headlong into the front screen. Swinging the door open, he greeted the pizza guy with a small nod.

"'Sup."

Michael muttered a curse behind him, turning back toward the kitchen with a sigh. Crying girls were definitely not his forte.

After trading the delivery guy a twenty for the pizza, Gabriel shut the door and made his way back to the kitchen, where Mike was awkwardly handing Becca kleenexes and Chris was (trying) to hold back his laughter.

"Somehow I don't think this was the reaction Chris was expecting." Gabriel announced, flipping open the box and snagging a slice before plopping himself back in his seat. "I think Michael was the one that was supposed to cry."

Despite Chris' valiant efforts, a snort still managed to escape him. Becca sniffed, taking another kleenex from Mike before shooting Gabriel a glare.

"Shut up. It's not like I'm crying on purpose you know!"

"Girls...cry...sometimes." Michael tried, the words coming out abrupt and painful. The expression on his face actually made it look like he was in physical pain.

Even Gabriel couldn't hold back. He howled, Chris doubling over beside him, the two of them making quite a scene.

Becca ignored them, wiping the last of her tears away before shooting him a rueful smile. "Thanks, I think." He just shrugged, turning back to his computer with obvious relief.

"Hey, jerk," Becca prodded Gabriel, who was still laughing, with her foot to get his attention. He wiped imaginary tears from his eyes before settling, fixing her with an expectant look. "Your phone is buzzing."

He glanced at the table, not having realized he'd left it there. But she was right; he'd missed two text messages from Layne.

**Truth: She told me what you did to Drew. And...What Drew tried to do. To her.**

  
And then,

**I love you for that. Gotta go finish dinner now, see you tomorrow.**

I love you for that.

_I love you._

"Hey, are you okay?" The genuine concern in her voice snapped Gabriel out of his momentary daze. He glanced at her, nodding slowly as he got to his feet.

"Yeah. I just... I'm going out for a bit."

"What? I thought we were gonna celebrate!" She called after him, but he just waved over his shoulder, saying he'd be back in time for dessert.

Chris shrugged when she turned her confused gaze on him, digging out his phone. "I'm gonna call Nick. Is it okay if he brings Quinn over?" He felt weird, asking his brother for permission. He couldn't remember the last time (the first time?) he'd ever asked Michael before he did anything. Michael looked up from his computer, looking slightly taken aback. Apparently the feeling was mutual.

"Just make sure it's okay with her parents first." He sighed, glancing over his shoulder at the already half-eaten pizza. "And tell them to bring something to eat. This is supposed to be a party, isn't it?"

Smiling, Chris scrolled through his contacts and hit dial.

* * *

She'd told him that she loved him.

Layne...loved him. Sure, she hadn't actually said the words out loud. Texts could easily be misinterpreted all the time. But...

He had to know. He had to hear her say it. Reading the words on that screen left a strange feeling in his stomach, like someone had punched him right in the gut. It felt like he wouldn't be able to breathe again until he heard those words from her.

_I love you._

It felt like an eternity before he reached her house, the blink of an eye before he was knocking at her front door, his palms slick with sweat. What was he going to say? He'd just shown up at her house, completely unannounced. Her father was already looking for one good reason to give him the boot. This was definitely not going to help matters.

Way to think this through, moron.

He was tempted to just turn around, head back to his car and pretend this never happened. But he'd already knocked. He could hear voices behind the closed door; a girl's soft murmuring, a male voice answering. Too late.

Shit, shit shit. What the hell had he been thinking?

The door opened and Layne was suddenly there, staring up at him. Her hair was loose and flowing, tempting him, begging him to run his fingers through it, her beautiful eyes wide with surprise.

"Gabriel? What are you doing here?"

He stared at her blankly; he could feel his mouth opening and closing, but no words were coming out.

Smooth.

"Who is it? It better not be another salesman, they should know better to come knocking at this time..." Her father's stern voice grew louder as he closed the distance. Layne's expression went from surprised to concerned, one hand reaching out to clasp his hand. Mr. Forrest appeared at her other side, pulling the door wider so that he could get a good look at their visitor. He looked prepared to give a speech, but, seeing Gabriel, he stopped short.

"Oh. It's you." He didn't say it with any malice, which was surprising in itself. He was clearly taken aback, but not angry at seeing him here.

Gabriel cleared his throat. "I'm, uh, sorry to interrupt your dinner." Words! Thank God. "I wanted to - is it okay with you if I talk to your daughter for a minute?" He tried to be as polite as possible, but really. Gabriel Merrick wasn't exactly good with being polite. Still. He tried.

Layne's father looked at him for a moment, sizing him up or debating or something, until finally he let out a small huff. "Fine. Five minutes. Be quick about it, if you don't mind." And then he turned on his heel and marched back into the house.

Woah. That had actually been way easier than what he'd expected.

"Gabriel..?" Layne stepped out onto the porch, closing the door softly behind her. Her eyes were full of worry, her hand still clasped in his as she moved closer. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"You said..." His voice broke, and he had to try again, his cheeks burning slightly. "In your text message. You said you loved me." Now she looked completely shell-shocked, her face paling.

"Oh."

"Did you..." God, how was he supposed to ask this? Did he even want an answer? "Did you mean it?"

For a moment she didn't say anything; she stared up at him, suddenly looking so small and fragile and...afraid? Was she afraid of him?

"I did." She swallowed. "I do. Mean it, I mean."

"You do."

She hesitated for a moment, before slowing nodding her head.

She loved him.

No one had ever told him that they loved him. Hell, he'd never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a week. This relationship hadn't lasted much longer, but somehow...It felt like they'd already spent a lifetime together. They'd been through so much. He'd told her the truth. About _everything_.

"I'm sorry." She whispered when he remained silent, her eyes welling with tears. "I shouldn't have... I didn't mean-"

He kissed her. Before he could even register what was happening, his hands were on her face, in her hair, cradling her against him. He kissed her slowly, he kissed her fiercely, as if he would never have the chance to kiss her again. As if he would spend every waking moment kissing her soft, perfect lips.

He pulled back, gently running a thumb across her cheek, brushing away a tear that had managed to break free.

"I love you." He breathed, feeling the power behind those words, feeling the raw emotion in his heart, his soul. "Layne Forrest, I love you."

"You do?" Her voice quavered and she blushed crimson, tugging a small chuckle from deep in his chest.

"Yeah." He stroked her hair, resting his forehead against hers. "I do."

She smiled, reaching up to plant a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. "Well, I'm glad that's settled then." She shifted back, putting a hand up to run gently through his hair, his hands falling to her waist. They stood like that for a moment, smiling like morons at each other before a distinct throat-clearing startled them back into reality.

"It would be rude not to invite you to stay for dinner." Mr. Forrest sighed, looking like it wasn't highest on his to-do list. "Layne made chicken and mashed potatoes, if you'd like to join us."

"I'd love to." He replied, shooting her a wicked grin that had her flushing all over again. "Actually, Mr. Forrest, we're sort of celebrating back at my place. You guys could swing by after dinner...If you want."

He glanced nervously at her father, tentative and hopeful all at once. He didn't have to say yes; hell, he was surprised the guy hadn't already slammed the door in his face. But it would be a step in the right direction. A sign that maybe, someday, the two of them could find a way to get along. Or, at the very least, tolerate each other's company.

Layne's father hesitated for a moment, looking slowly between the two of them before inclining his head. "I'm sure Simon would like that. Now hurry up, dinner is getting cold." He muttered sternly, gesturing for them to get inside. Layne squeezed his hand, shooting him a small smile before heading inside, pulling him in after her.

"Oh, and Gabriel?"

He swallowed. "Yes..? Yes, sir?"

Mr. Forrest smiled. "Call me David."

_Fin_


End file.
